If Tomorrow Never Comes
by neda1231
Summary: Santana's point of view; Loss, courage, love and carpe diem. "There's no lesson here, there's no happy ending, there's just nothing… he's just gone."


It's four AM and you can't sleep. You already ordered a ticket back home, to New York, because that city will become home for you form now on. You can't stand one fucking second more of the halls of Mckinley high and you just want out. Finn… god… that boy, and that is all he is ever going to be, a fucking _boy_, you lost your chance with him. You thought, like Sue and Rachel, that you'll have forever with this boyish giant somewhere orbiting around your life, to make sure he _knows_ how much you _appreciate_ him.

Yes, he pushed you mighty hard out of the flannel closet and yes, it hurt, but at the end of the day, now almost a year later, you know he did you a big ass favor by being the stupid oaf that he was. He threw you out of the closet but he made sure you had a soft landing, rallying up all your glee club friends, whom sang beautiful supporting songs for you, and for the life of you, you will never be able to forget the way Finn made you feel when he sang 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' to you, it was everything.

You're in constant fucking pain, from the second you found out and up until this very moment, you can't breathe properly and everything fucking hurts. You had a showdown with Sue, a breakdown in Glee, a heart to heart with Kurt, you went head to head with Puck and you are just fucking done. Rachel is broken beyond belief, you don't even fucking know how to go _there_, so you told her you're there for her and let it rest at that, and if you're totally honest with yourself, you can't quite wrap your head around the grieve. You, in your own head, in your own thoughts, just can't go _there_, to what it is to lose a lover, to lose your person, to lose your end game. So you just _don't_. And it's great that Rachel opted to stay in Lima a little bit longer, you need out of here, and away from all the grieve and pain that is Lima right now.

So, as your parents drop you off at Columbus airport to catch a flight back to New York, you kiss them goodbye and make sure to tell them how much you love them, because Sue can state there isn't a lesson to learn here until she's blue in her stupid wrinkly face, but Santana Lopez is anything but stupid, and she will be telling her parents they are everything – You say your goodbyes, board the plane and as your ass hits the seat you finally feel like you can breathe again.

That is before your mind kick starts again and is immediately thrown into over drive.

Your thoughts race to a beautiful, hazel eyed blonde, for the first time these last couple of days and your heart is aching. Since your "two-time-thing" back at Mr. Schue's non wedding, things have been heavy between the two of you. From sexual tension, to jealousy, to confusion - things were heavy. You two are strong minded individuals and your personalities clash constantly. Power struggles, ego bruising and walls are the way things are, well, were, before Quinn got soft on you.

It was over a month ago now, that after an awesome weekend of sex, alcohol, and post-banging pillow talks up in New Haven with her, she stood at the train platform and told you she wanted _more_, she wanted _commitment_, she wanted to give the two of you a real chance at something _more_ than just fucking. She got soft on you. She stood there, honest hazel eyes gleaming in earnest, beautiful and driven as fuck, but you couldn't.

Butting heads and having angry sex - you fucking excelled in that, Brittany has left enough raw and open wounds for you to know to keep away from feelings, so when Quinn told you she wanted more, she wanted honesty, she wanted to give the two of you a real chance, you shut her out. You were nothing but honest with her when you told her you just weren't ready yet to put your heart out there again, and Quinn, well, she shut you out ten fold. This was over a month ago and you hadn't heard from her since, and you miss her like fucking crazy, you miss her raspy voice, you miss her smart text messages and random emails, you miss the intellectual challenge that is Quinn Fabray, and honestly, you just fucking miss all of her.

You opted to give her space, let her cool down a bit, so after not getting you're your multiple SMS messages answered, calls declined, and e-mails ignored – you just decided to let her have some space. Because you figured, hell, we have all the fucking time in the world to sort this shit out, right?

It's two hours into the flight and you don't know what went wrong, but your defense mechanism you had going on since you learnt about Finn's death, is, in a lack of a better word, demolished. You can feel your thoughts swaying in to _that place_, and It finally sinks in that Rachel has lost her _person_, her _endgame_, her _happy ending_, and she never fucking got a chance to _tell him_ how she felt. She will never get to marry him, have kids with him, she will never get to feel his bare skin against her bare skin, she will never get the chance to tell him _how much_ she loved him.

This realization hit's you so hard you feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs, this hits so close to home because you suddenly realize that shit, if this stupid plane crashes now, Quinn will never fucking know how you _really_ feel about her, because she put her heart out there and you fucking shut yours away behind old wounds and bolted doors because you are such, a fucking, _pussy_. Life is so fucking short, and nothing is fucking guaranteed and you are fucking around wasting your time on earth while you have a chance for fucking happiness.

You shouldn't give her fucking space to figure shit out, you should have been knocking on her Yale dorm room door weeks ago, manning up and giving it a fucking chance because _life is too short_.

You rest your forehead against the window and you try to cool yourself down, you try to formulate a way to make this better, to learn the fucking lesson, because there is one; life. is. too. damn. short. You try to think how to get to Quinn, what's the best way, metro perhaps? Another flight? Rent a Car? You are so fucking restless, so in the spirit of "life is too short" you make a decision to pay the ridiculous amount of money that is asked of you and you purchase WiFi connection 30,000 feet up in the air. After cussing and swearing up and down you find out that a flight from New York to New Haven is fucking stupid, with three stops and eight hours from plane to plane and you opt for the Metro North instead.

It's fucking eight PM when you land yourself at Union Station in New Haven and you are completely out of your fucking sorts. Your fucking goddamn phone is dead, you are dead on your feet because you've been up for well over thirty hours, and you don't even know where Quinn is. In your stupid state of Carpe - fucking - diem you didn't even get your shit together enough to call or her text her, so in this fucking cold October night your dragging your suitcase along the chilly streets of New Haven.

You make your way to her dorms on York Street, like you have a couple times before, and your praying to god that someone will let you in the residential area. The folks at Yale are nothing short of Fort Knoxing their students' asses, which most of the time you are grateful for, but not tonight, not when Quinn isn't here to let you in with her ID card. So the main gate is a no brainer because people go in and out all the time, but begging people to let you in to her building is wearing your nearly there patience fucking thin.

Thirty minutes later you find yourself sitting outside of Quinn's suite, yes, _suite_, because she's a fucking princes and needs to live alone, and you are waiting for her to come back from wherever the fuck she is, and somewhere in the back of your brain you remember that Sam said something about finals and that's why she didn't even come to Lima.

You have been in work mood ever since you got off your flight in New York so you haven't really let things sink in yet. You aren't even sure what you fucking want to say to her, only that you fucking have to say _something_, and you're hoping it's not too late, that she hasn't given up on you, on the both of you. You are so fucking exhausted, and sad, and anxious, and you feel the tears falling freely down your face and you can't fucking stop them, the feeling is something akin to the feelings you have when your drunk and you lose control.

Everything is hurting, your body, your heart, your mind… it's all just _too much_, Finn is _dead_, Rachel is barely holding herself together, you're a fucking mess and Quinn is nowhere to be found so you just slump down against the wall and bawl your fucking eyes out. You don't know how to process all the shit that you're feeling, you are so fucking overwhelmed by it all, you're in complete _anguish_, but then you hear a gasp from down the hall and you know it's Quinn even without looking.

Two firm hands pull you up to your feet and into a warm embrace and you nothing short of melt into her body.

"Santana, honey, what are you doing here?" She's worried, her voice is frantic, she is hugging you closely to her body and you burrow your tear stricken face into her neck and hold her as tightly as you can, as if this would make anything better, as if this will change anything. You know it won't and you know you need to get your shit together and talk, so you give it a try.

"I…I… I'm so sorry Quinn!" and well, you tried, but it comes out as a fucking mopey whine and you pull back and try to wipe the tears away to see her face, to tell her what you want to say, whatever it is you aren't actually sure but your winging it. She places her hands on your cheeks and her hazel eyes are searching your face for god knows what, before she places a soft kiss against your cheek and shows you inside her room.

You shuffle inside her room and you drag your suitcase inside and plop down on the closest thing you can find- her couch. She's regarding you with some sort of cross between guarded and worried and you know you need to say something because you don't want to worry her and you're sure you look like shit.

She confirms just as much.

"You look like shit Santana, what are you doing here? Why didn't you call me?" She asks you a little harshly but then softens her tone a notch. "Is this about Finn? Do you want me to make you some coffee and we can talk about it?"

You gently shake your head at her, but then nod, but then just slap a hand against your forehead because you can't communicate like a human being right now.

"I'm sorry I'm just so… there's so much… my battery died on the way… and Finn, and Rachel… and life is so short!" And with that you jump to your feet and close the distance between you, and grab a shell shocked Quinn by her shoulders. You know you aren't explaining shit, and that you're all over the fucking place, so you roll your eyes at yourself and take a deep breath.

Quinn is still regarding you patiently, waiting for you to get your thoughts together, though yet again, you get side tracked because shit, she is so close to you, she's beautiful, the smell of her perfume is intoxicating your senses, so you close your eyes to reel in the horny teenager within you, and try to pull your shit together.

You open your eyes and are met with blazing hazel eyes and you know Quinn is feeling it too, that pull, and she gently tugs you into her body by your waist and your bodies are flush against one another, her tongue slowly pokes beyond those luscious, full, inviting lips and sweep deliciously across her lower one. You really, for the life of you, can not hold in the whimper going on moan that escapes your mouth because shit, your heart and lady parts are exploding with _want_ and _love_ and you want her.

"If I take you to bed now, and fuck you into oblivion, will we be able to have this talk later? Or should I wait for you to find your tongue again?" Her voice is like liquid sex, husky and seductive and you have to fight the urge to just _melt_ in to a puddle of mush and sexual frustration just from that one sentence.

And you know this is so typical of the both of you, fucking your problems away, you know that taking her up on that offer will not be any good, but honestly, you are so happy to see her, and so happy you still have this affect on her, that you throw speeches and heart felt confessions out the window, because this is how you two operate the best, you fuck the pain away, and hopefully you both get out on the other side unharmed.

So without further ado, you weave your fingers into her beautiful blonde hair and crash your lips against hers, she promptly tightens her grip around your waist and kisses you back with fervor, and the feeling of her lips against yours, her hands tugging at the hem of your shirt, the way she playfully nips at your lower lips, it makes all the blood in your body rush south and your kisses grow sloppier with desperation.

You shove her coat off her shoulders as you start backing her up towards her bedroom, and it's curious how easily this comes to the both of you, as if you're practiced lovers that have been in this situation many times before, when in reality this is your third time here in New Haven, but yeah, there is definitely something to be said about how easy this is.

You deepen the kiss as you both topple over into her bed, you straddle her thighs and shove your coat off. You look down at her and she's already making quick work of opening her cardigan and pulling off her shirt, her chest is heaving slightly and you just sit there and take her in.

She catches your eyes trained on her while she's struggling with her bra and she arches a perfect eye brow your way.

"Can I help you with something?"

And she's _teasing_, and she's _smiling_, and your completely overwhelmed by how light hearted she is with you, so you lean down and kiss her, it's not forceful and it isn't probing, it's gentle and you're cradling her face between your hands and you can tell she's not happy with this change of pace but you tilt your head and push your lips firmly against hers, trying to convey without words that you don't need her to fuck your minds out, you just want to _feel_ her, to _love_ her.

She pushes at your chest lightly and you pull back just enough to let her pull free of her bra and the she's pulling you in again, but she isn't having any of your gentleness apparently, because she's tugging off your blouse and she is anything but gentle, lips hungrily kissing and nipping against yours, delving her tongue in to the depths of your mouth, she eagerly strips you down to your skirt and she pulls you flush against her body, her nipples hard and probing against yours, you can't help but moan at that, feeling her body so hot and so eager for you, it's astounding.

Her hands are running up and down your back as you continue kissing her, she opens her legs and you slip into place between them, loving the closeness it creates between the both of you. Before your foggy, lust filled mind can comprehend what's going on, she shifts her weight and flips you over so you find yourself flat on your back, both your hands above your head clasped in one of hers, and a dangerously turned on Quinn looming over you. She searches your eyes for what seems like forever before she yanks your skirt up with her free hand exposing your thong clad center to her.

She firmly cups you through your thong and she lets out a puff of air, gently shaking her head. You see her gaze darken and she nearly sneers at you.

"Look at that, so fucking hot and ready, I didn't even do anything yet."

You can see the lust and light-heartiness shifting in to anger, her eyebrows lower and slant inwards, her mouth pursing into a thin line, her jaw thrusts forward and her nostrils are kind of flaring, and you know, you just know she's gonna go to town on you, because this is classical crazy-angry-Quinn, you can see how all the hurt and frustration catches up to her, and a second later she tears the thong off your body and there's nothing you can do but gasp. She's staring right into your eyes and she's furiously rubbing your clit that is _absolutely throbbing_ beneath her touch, and you can't look away from her infuriated gaze.

She starts running her fingers up and down your swollen folds and you can feel how wet you are, and you're enjoying this so much, because yeah, she might be angry with you but she still touching you, still _fucking_ you, still looking deeply in to your eyes, and she isn't shutting you out anymore, and just as that thought enters your mind she thrusts in to you with two fingers and you arch up into her, struggling to free your hands and touch her.

"This is what you want isn't it? For me to _fuck_ you like it doesn't mean anything?"

You whimper and shake your head, eyes wide and mouth agape because you can't answer her with what she's doing between your legs, she pounding into you with two fingers and it's all you can do to not come then and there.

"Is this eye contact too much for you _Santana_? Are there too much _feelings _this way _Santana_?" And the way her lips curl around your name, it seems like it's in disgust, so you shake your head and struggle against her once again and try to break free from her.

You want to hold her, to kiss her, to try and tell her that this eye contact is everything you want, that _she_ is everything you want, but she borrows her face into your neck and bites down hard. She mounts your thigh, still wearing her tights, and basically dry humps your leg with the rhythm of her thrusting fingers.

You feel tears gather in your eyes because this isn't want you want, you crave to see those beautiful hazel eyes, you want her to do this with you, not _to you_.

After you understand that you can't break free of her grasp you change tactics; you thrust your thigh up in between Quinn's legs in a way you know will be painful but you need her to _calm the fuck down_.

She arches off and away from you with a small "_oof_" and you quickly free your hands from her grip. Her face is still tucked between your neck and your shoulder and her hand is still delving in and out of your wet heat, and you need her to fucking _stop_ and look at you.

You clutch your now free hand in her hair and tug her face away from your neck and with your other hand you clasp her wrist and stop its erratic movements, and when you lock gazes with her you realize she's crying, her face now is nothing but pure _agony_, so you gently run your fingers through her hair and loosen the tight grasp you have on her wrist, you gently trace her beautiful face and try to brush away her tears but to no avail, the tears keep running down her face and her lips are trembling.

"Baby…."

You aren't even sure how this soft plea left your lips, you don't even understand what this girl has done to you, how she tapped in to your most inner goodness and tenderness and let it out of you like this. Seeing Quinn crying is the most devastating thing because you know how strong she is.

She shakes her head and screws her eyes shut, shying away from you, but you won't let her.

"Look at me, please…"

And there it is again, this gentle plea, the way you address her in reverence. She opens her eyes and looks at you, her fingers still buried deep within you, but she's shaking with the force of her _sobs_ so you pry her fingers out of you, and pull her hand up to your chest, just above your beating heart and let her lay her soaking fingers there. You take a deep breath and through your own

tears you stare deeply into her eyes and softly cup her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Quinn, for being such a fucking coward."

You lean up and gently place a small kiss against her salty cheek.

"I don't want you to just _fuck_ me, and I don't want to just fuck you … don't know if that was ever all I wanted from you."

You lean up again and kiss her other cheek. Your voice is hoarse, wobbly at best, but you soldier on.

"You mean everything to me."

You search her eyes for understanding, and lean up and kiss her chin.

"If you still want to try, I'm in, and I'm sorry for…"

But you never get to finish that sentence because salty, soft lips push gently against yours and she's kissing you delicately. You rearrange yourself in a way that you end up wrapping her nimble upper body up in your arms and you feel nothing but pure bliss. She is leaning both of her palms against your chest now and she is kissing you so gently it makes your head dizzy.

She pulls back and stares at you intently, her eyes roaming your face and her lips are tugged up a bit in one edge and she is absolutely _endearing _with that little smirk on her face. She looks down your bodies and a small blush blooms across her ivory skin and she lets out a small chuckle and gets off of you.

"We didn't even take off our shoes." She shakes her head with a gentle smile adorning her pretty face, and makes quick work of your knee high Stiletto boots and your skirt, then does the same to her white and brown oxfords, her tights and boy shorts, and then she joins you back in bed.

She lies on her back and pulls you into her, kissing the top of your head and it seems like she's holding you as close as she can manage to her body. Your legs intertwine and you lay your head on her bare chest, enjoying the sound of her heart beating steadily under your ear. She takes in a deep breath and tells you quietly that she missed you.

"You could have picked up your damn phone if you missed me, bitch." Your answer is muffled against her soft skin and it holds absolutely no malice at all, so she swats your ass playfully and chuckles, not taking any offence to you being, well, you.

You feel all the adrenaline leave your body as you slowly sink in to her body and let the feeling of serenity and tranquility take over you, you let the feeling of safety wrap around your tired limbs and succumb to sleep, knowing you aren't done winning over Quinn, you aren't done crying over the loss of Finn and that you aren't done figuring out all the crazy shit that is going on in your life – But for tonight, you did your best, and before you completely black out you feel Quinn press a lingering kiss against your temple – and you know that for today at least, you did well.


End file.
